5 Famous Artworks of Medusa: Monstrous, Misunderstood, or Moving?

Medusa, a frequently depicted figure from classical myth, is infamous in ancient and modern art alike. The beautiful woman, raped by Poseidon in Athena’s temple, was transformed into a snake-haired monster with a petrifying gaze as punishment. Perseus beheaded Medusa, using her head in heroic feats before surrendering it to Athena, who placed it on her shield. Artists have interpreted her image in diverse ways.

Medusa’s presence on Athena’s shield, more commonly referred to as her aegis, invokes terror in her opponents. Ultimately, the Gorgon serves as a representation of her petrifying powers, providing protection against evil for the shield bearer and a powerful weapon with the potential to destroy the enemy. According to Meredith Kate Wolkom, this is the function of Michelangelo Merisi da Caravaggio’s painting of Medusa, for which he used oil paint on a convex poplar shield. It was originally a gift made for the Grand Duke of Tuscany, Frederiko de Medici. As the receiver of the shield, he was not only being commended for his battle prowess but also being placed under protection.

Caravaggio’s image of the Medusa is indeed striking and terrifying. The use of diagonal jagged lines to represent the blood dripping from the severed head evokes the violence of the decapitation. Further, the asymmetrical conglomeration of snakes that frame the head conveys the chaos and captivity one might associate with the petrifying gaze of the Gorgon. Her raised eyebrows, lowered eyes, and wide open mouth, which are fearsome to behold, also appear frozen in motion.

Although the face of Caravaggio’s Medusa appears static, it is also striking in its lifelikeness. The moss-green background, contrasted against the faint tinges of color in her cheeks, gives the impression of lingering vitality. This, in and of itself, is as terrifying as the idea that the Medusa’s petrifying powers remain even after her death. It seems that, at any moment, she might move her eyes to meet the gaze of the onlooker, turning him to stone.

If one were to imagine horror personified, the Medusa may well be the embodiment of the sensation. The presence of death, gore, and decay, are elements elaborately portrayed in Peter Paul Rubens’s oil on canvas. Caravaggio’s Medusa included an aspect of the violence of her decapitation, although the focal point was the terror evoked by her gaze. Rubens, on the other hand, situates her severed head on a rocky ledge where she is exposed to the elements. She is fearsome to behold, yet susceptible to decay. This potential is emphasized by the creatures that are beginning to eat at her remains, an addition believed to be the work of Frans Snyders.

What makes Rubens’s portrayal of Medusa particularly captivating is its juxtaposition of her frightfulness, mortality, humanity, and even vulnerability. He achieves this contrast by depicting her with a combination of human hair and snakes attached to her head. This visual representation of her human origins also implies the potential for harm and death. This Medusa is terrifying in that her eyes are bloodshot and her gaze forceful. Yet, she is defenseless against the violence of Perseus’s blade, apparent from the blood pooling at the base of her neck.

Another aspect of Rubens’s Medusa’s lifeless face frozen in motion is its marble-like appearance, which hints at her ability to turn to stone. The viewer may well be left unsettled by her face. However, the fact that she is viewed from a side angle implies that, on this occasion, the onlooker is out of harm’s way.

The painting known as Head of Medusa was formerly credited to Leonardo da Vinci. However, it is now believed to be the work of an unknown Flemish artist from the 17th century. When considering the realism of its subject, its association with the Renaissance master is not surprising. The Romantic poet Percy Bysshe Shelley titled his poetic impression of the painting On the Medusa of Leonardo Da Vinci in the Florentine Gallery. He describes the subject of the artwork as “the melodious hue of beauty thrown athwart the darkness and the glare of pain.” As an observer familiar with the legend, he sees a combination of beauty and its opposite—a paradox that leaves him in awe.

The Medusa of this painting, unlike her counterparts in the works of Caravaggio and Rubens, evokes pity in the viewer rather than fear. There is nothing harsh or jarring about her gaze. Instead, there is a genuine sense of pain present. Her eyes, which appear resigned not to gaze on earthly things anymore, are turned towards the sky, where nothing is within reach of her petrifying powers.

Although her gaze is turned away from the onlooker, her appearance and surroundings imply that she is not free from the blight of Athena’s curse. Consistent with the legend, her hair is a tangled mass of snakes, some still writhing. This suggests that her ability to petrify lives on in the same way that the aftereffects of venom remain in a carcass killed by snakebite. Similarly, the creatures that surround her—bats, rats, frogs, and lizards—are often associated with the underworld or the occult. Many authors, such as Homer and Dante Alighieri, place Medusa in this realm. Ultimately, she is a creature that cannot escape darkness—an aspect captured particularly well by this painter.

A late 19th-century artist who captured the pathos of Medusa well is Arnold Böcklin. He created two artworks of the Gorgon, one in 1878 and the other in 1894. His first, an oil-on-panel painting titled Medusa, shows her face fully from the front. The viewer of this painting looks her straight in the eyes, but her mournful face produces empathy rather than fear. His second representation is a painted paper mâché shield titled Medusenschild. This shield, unlike Caravaggio’s terrifying creation, depicts Medusa with a mournful expression that simultaneously fascinates and unsettles the onlooker.

The most striking feature of Medusenschild is the hypnotic quality of its Medusa, which is portrayed as beautiful rather than dreadful. Her mesmerizing eyes draw the onlooker in, possibly to his death. Like the sirens of old, she is lovely to look at, with the snakes that form part of her tresses neatly heaped on top of her head like a crown. The decorative way that she is embossed on the shield gives her a statuesque quality, as does her even-toned face. This aspect, of course, also mirrors the fate of those who would dare to look her in the eyes, though the pull of her deadly gaze is irresistible.

Although the Medusa created by Böcklin is beautifully terrifying, it also requires the sympathies of the onlooker. His choice of paper mâché as medium, which builds her face onto the shield in high relief, gives the impression that she is trapped in it against her will. In fact, in the classical tale, she was violated, subjected to extreme violence, and eventually used for the benefit of the goddess who cursed her. It may well be the case that Böcklin, in portraying her as hauntingly beautiful, simultaneously tried to capture her innocence, her dangerousness, and her vulnerability.

Salvador Dalí’s portrayal of the Gorgon in his drypoint etching titled Medusa is the only artwork in this article that shows her full body. His choice to portray her before her decapitation indicates that his fascination with her goes beyond the mere utility of her powers. Accordingly, the clues that he includes about her ability to petrify in the artwork are subtle. There is a faint human figure in its right-hand corner which may be interpreted as a victim of her gaze. Further, there is the skull his Medusa holds in both of her hands. However, the fact that bones were left to the natural process of decay signifies that she did not turn the person they belonged to into stone. In fact, she appears to be laying down the skull in a remarkably caring manner.

Dalí’s Medusa is situated in a dream-like setting where she is entirely at peace. Diagonal lines create a sense of order and serenity, like a bay that has been swept clean by the waves. A focal point in Dalí’s artwork is the mass of serpents that make up his Medusa’s hair. The tendrils span the width of the painting and resemble the tentacles of an octopus. In the same manner that an octopus would use its tentacles to grip and subdue its prey, they represent her potential to ensnare and overpower anyone who approaches her. Dalí’s Medusa is dangerous, yet delicate, a dark figure that demands respect, if not admiration.